The other day I was thinking about our family’s adventurous move to Texas. Both Carl and I were born and raised in New Hampshire, and never in a million years did we think that one day we would be living in Texas. How that happened will have to be a future story. One of my writing lessons asks me to describe something that I was in awe of. At first, I had a hard time coming up with something; then I remembered our trip to Texas. My awe-inspiring moment: the beauty of the open Texas sky at dusk.
Both Carl and I were driving two cars with two trailers, children, pets, luggage, and household items to a new home in Brock, Texas. It had been another long day of following this little caravan down the highway to a place we had never heard of.
After twenty-eight years I can still remember the tension of driving and driving and driving with no idea where we were going. There were no signs along the highway telling us how many miles to Brock. We were not sure we were headed in the right direction — the paper map said “go west, oh fool hardy adventurers, and see what is in stored for you!” Really the map didn’t say anything, but it sure sounded like it was talking, because no one else was.
We crossed the Dallas county line. There was traffic everywhere. Lots and lots of traffic, and hot, hot, hot. As we drove west the sun was beginning to settle, but at the time I was thinking it better hurry up because it was blinding me. The full, hot sun was in my eyes.
We continued to drive. About 6:00 PM we decided to stop and have some dinner. A little 50ish restaurant was off to our right; the smell of hamburgers cooking settled over the parking lot as we drove in to find a big enough place to park. I was not going to back up with a trailer behind me.
The break came at a good time. All of us were tired and hungry. Hamburgers and fries not only smelled good but tasted good. We talked about how we were feeling, and what were some things we saw we did not expect. Our son Dwayne commented on how “big the Texas sky was.” The three of us sat there looking at Dwayne, “What?” He said, “Did you see how big the sky is? There are no mountains around us.” He looked back at us in unbelief that we all missed it!!
When we stood by our cars ready for another long drive, we stopped and looked up at the beautiful “big” Texas sky. The sun was slowly going down and would continue to hit us in the face as we drove west, but the magnitude of the sky was amazing.
As we crossed Lake Ray Hubbard, the sky began to turn brilliant colors. Golds and blues swept across the sky; the sun reflecting off the clouds. It seemed that you could see forever; no end to the sky or the colors and shapes that danced before us. The lake was very calm like glass and reflected the sun rays as a duck landed gracefully on the water. Little ripples spread out from the duck, and the trees reflection looked like they were moving with the ripples of the water.
The sky grew darker turning the green and brown cluster of small trees into the shape of a serpent moving across the water’s edge settling in for a peaceful evening’s rest. For a moment or two, as the sun dripped below the horizon, a splash of bright colors — red, orange, blue — slid across the sky. It seemed like you could see into heaven. And then the sun slowly slipped out of sight leaving the black of night to creep in over the city of Dallas. This was an awe-inspiring sight to behold. Today I am grateful to see many Texas golden sunsets. I am still in awe!
Today, do something that challenges you, Linda